


A Brutus of the Court

by Dewdrop1999



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Because he's Gwaine, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 04, Pre-Season/Series 05, Recurring guest star: Pure unabashed angst, especially gwaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dewdrop1999/pseuds/Dewdrop1999
Summary: It was happening again.First, Morgana. Then, Agravaine. And now- now, Arthur didn’t know who, but he knew what they’d done. The sight lay plain before him.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	A Brutus of the Court

It was happening again. 

First, Morgana. Then, Agravaine. And now- now, Arthur didn’t know who, but he knew what they’d done. The sight lay plain before him. 

He’d just finished up the first in a long series of negotiations with the Kingdom of Traias. The delegate with whom he’d been speaking with had gone on and on of the many resources his kingdom had to boast of. 

“The finest tapestries to bedeck each of your halls!” he’d cried exuberantly, jolting Arthur from the tiredness he’d nearly succumbed to. “Mead made from freshly plucked honey, the likes of which can quench the throats of even your most parched knights!” 

Well, tapestries and mead be damned, Arthur cared little for what the Traias agreement could do for his castle. His concerns lay more in aiding Camelot’s outer lands, who’d suffered the harshest of winters in recent memory and a disappointingly scarce harvest thereafter. The only hope for the peasantry may be in the stocks of grain that would become available should trade with Traias flourish. 

Though, Arthur reconciled as he traversed the halls leading to his chambers, perhaps a few complimentary tapestries wouldn’t hurt. After Ygraine had passed, Uther had done little to decorate the castle, and in the turbulent years since his reign had begun, Arthur hadn’t done much better. 

“Guinevere!” he called out as he opened the doors, deciding to get her opinion on the matter. “What do you…” 

He trailed off. She wasn’t there, but that wasn’t what stopped him. It was some instinct that caused his words to halt; for though he knew these chambers well, the feeling of them was not right. They felt, instead, like the thickness in the air after a battle; heavy and unknown, as if the dead themselves were still not quite sure what happened. 

A pair of boots stuck out from behind his desk. And that was not right either, for he knew those boots, and they weren’t supposed to lie like that. To be so still. 

He walked over slowly, a course of action he’d curse himself for later. Seconds were precious, and he’d wasted several just because he couldn’t come to terms with what had  _ already happened.  _

Merlin was curled up on his side, one arm pinned half under him, the other hanging loosely over. The window must have been open- a breeze ruffled his hair. His chest moved… 

And that was enough to finally, finally make Arthur move again. 

“Merlin,” Arthur murmured, coming to kneel beside him. The blood spreading on the floor looked thicker than it had just a moment ago. “Merlin! Hey!” He shook him by the shoulders and immediately regretted it; even the youngest of knights knew not to move the injured more than needed. 

But he was not on a battlefield, was not ready to switch into a soldier’s mindset for a dying friend. It was only an old instinct that had him searching for the wound- in the back, he found, and he had to suppress a wave of fury. He’d let that consume him later. 

As he pressed down, a new gush slipped through his fingers, and a groan of pain jerked him from his quickly growing panic. “That’s it,” Arthur said, distantly hearing the hitched edge in his voice. “Keep complaining.  _ Guards! _ ”

He watched Merlin’s face closely, hoping to see his eyes opening. Only breaths stirred, and Arthur supposed that, all things considered, he should be grateful for that. 

When the guards at last came in, he wanted to scream at them. Where had they been? Surely Merlin must have called out, made  _ some  _ sound when- when he-

“Boris, help me get him to Gaius,” Arthur heard himself saying, faintly surprised at the icy calm to his voice. “Edgar, sound the bells,” he continued. “No one leaves.”  _ Not the person who did this.  _

The guards sprang into motion, perhaps keenly aware of their negligence in this matter. They brought Merlin into a sitting position, then standing, if it could be called that. His friend’s head hung back sickeningly at the change. No sound escaped. 

“Quickly now,” Arthur rasped to the guard helping him, seeing his own hesitation mirrored there. Perhaps they should have let Gaius come to them. Arthur tried to rationalize that his decision to move Merlin had been to get him help as quickly as possible, for the older man really couldn’t move as fast as his younger counterparts. 

But truthfully, his motives had been more selfish. Because if Merlin died (the possibility of which he’d deny were the man conscious) he did not want him to die  _ here _ , in this room, the one place in the entire castle where he should have been safe. 

The bells began to ring once they were halfway down the second hallway. Shouts of confusion were heard across the courtyard, followed by the slamming shut of the gate’s doors. And then, pounding footsteps getting closer. Arthur braced himself, prepared to settle Merlin down as gently as possible should his attacker reveal themselves- only to find such forethought unnecessary, as Gwaine and Elyan came to stutter to a halt before him. 

“What the-?” Gwaine gasped, paling. 

“I don’t know. I found him like this.” Arthur kept his gaze trained on the ground- to keep himself from tripping over the dragging feet beside him, and to avoid the panicked gazes he was sure were being cast their way. 

“Here,” Gwaine said, rushing forward with his arms open. “Let me.” 

Arthur paused, not understanding his meaning at first. In his frustration, he was tempted to shove the other man away. 

But- of course. Gwaine was offering to help, because Arthur was the king, and the castle had just been attacked. Loathe as he was to admit it, time was of the essence, and not just for Merlin. 

Transferring Merlin as carefully as possible to the other knight to avoid causing pain, Arthur watched with a growing sense of helplessness as they continued on down the hall without him. He only became fully aware of Elyan’s presence beside him once their figures had disappeared. 

“Guinevere,” Arthur said, and he could have smacked himself for not thinking sooner. "Where is she?"

“She was meeting with the ladies of Traias, but we took her to a separate room once the bells rang.” 

“Good. You’ll guard her door after seeing Leon and Percival. Tell them to round up the Traias delegates, keep them in one area- whichever is easiest to guard.” 

“For their protection?” Elyan said grimly. 

“And for ours,” Arthur sighed. The people of Traias might take offense should their detainment extend beyond what they thought necessary, but he’d deal with the consequences of that when the dust had settled. 

“Where will you go now, my lord?” Elyan asked softly. 

Another sigh. There were a great many places he  _ should _ go then. To the Great Hall, perhaps, to strategize with his guards on how to properly do their job for once. Or to the servants, to tell them to clean up the blood in his room before Guinevere could return. The Traias people, too, might appreciate his reassurances (lies) regarding their safety within the castle. 

But then he thought of all the times he’d woken up after being unconscious (a startlingly common occurrence) only to find Merlin before him, stoking a fire and quickly hiding any fear he had felt prior to Arthur’s awakening. Perhaps Arthur was a fool at times, as his servant so often claimed- but he was not so foolish as to think Merlin had only stayed out of some sense of duty. 

There really was no other plausible option, then. 

"To Merlin." 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone the other night, despite my awareness that something like this has probably been done a thousand times before. Guess I'll be making that a thousand and one! :D  
> I'm not entirely sure where this is going, but hopefully inspiration will strike again so I can continue. :)


End file.
